Star Wars - The Adept
by CaptainNate21
Summary: On the mysterious planet of Byss, near the Galactic Core, an amnesia-stricken prisoner is mentally and physically tortured for reasons he does not understand. At the mercy of his mysterious captors and isolated from contacting any other prisoners, he must find a way to survive and piece together his past. However, his captors have other plans for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Cell Shock**

 **Location: Imperial Prison, Byss, Deep Core  
Time: 2 Years Before the Battle of Yavin**

 _So cold... wait... wha-...?_

The prisoner jumped up from his deep sleep. The sudden flood of confusing senses struck him like a Corellian crusier. First, the freezing cold temperature of the cell, which, if any colder, would almost certainly be like taking a bath in carbonite. Second, the hard stone floor which he had awakened on. Third, the nearly pitch darkness in the cell, save for a tiny sliver of light that shown through the grated ceiling above. Most importantly, though...

 _Who am I?_

The prisoner thought as hard as he possibly could, but couldn't remember a single thing about... well, anything!

 _Empire..._

One word seemed to be all he could fathom in that moment.

 _Empire? What's that? Are those the people who are keeping me here? Why am I here? Who the hell am I?_

Suddenly, a seemingly impossibly loud screeching sound echoed through the small cell, sending the prisoner to his knees in agony. The torturous sound, which sounded like the amplified sound of metal scraping at the end of a tunnel, lasted about seven seconds. The instant it ended, the cell door slid open. Three humans, all clad in intimidating white armor, with seemingly angry looks on their otherwise emotionless looking masks, entered the room, armed with batons. The rush of light blinded the prisoner, who fell backwards and crawled to the corner of the cell, not only to escape the scathingly bright light, but the three men approaching menacingly.

Through the reflection in one of the men's masks, the prisoner could see himself for the first time.

 _I'm a Kaleesh... how interesting..._

The newfound satisfaction in partially unravelling his identity didn't last long, as the three troopers simultaneously began to viciously beat the Kaleesh prisoner all over his frail body. The snapping of bones, the clashing of the batons, and the laughter of the humans dulled out the very weak wailing of the prisoner.

After about a minute straight, the troopers immediately stopped the beatdown.

"Welcome to Byss." one of the troopers said condescendingly.

The prisoner attempted to speak, perhaps to beg for mercy, or to plead for answers, but through a combination of malnutrition, agony, and sheer terror of the situation, could not find the strength to do so. The soldiers chuckled at this, then left the cell and locked the door behind them.

The next six days followed a very similar pattern of starvation, beatings, and torture from intense sounds or light. Every day, the beatings got worse, the light even more scathing, the sounds more screeching, the hunger more piercing, and all for a reason the Kaleesh prisoner could not understand.

 _Will this ever end?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – If I'm A Lab Rat, I Want Some Damn Cheese**

On what the prisoner believed was the seventh day of his captivity, he laid on his back, looking up at the grated ceiling, trying to focus on what little light shone through it. Then, a thought occurred to the prisoner...

 _If I'm Kaleesh, why can't I see in this pitch darkness?_

Indeed, the Kaleesh were supposed to be able to see through even the thickest of dark rooms. Small thermal pits under their eyes gave the aliens this unique ability. How he remembered this, the prisoner didn't know, but he proceeded to rub the spots under his eyes where the pits were supposed to be, and found that they'd been burned and stitched up.

 _They've mutilated me! What could I have done to deserve this?_

The prisoner laid back down, ready to completely give up. But this time, instead of the light he had hoped to see, a strange, otherworldly instant of clarity struck him. It only lasted for the briefest of moments, but the prisoner sat back up again, attempting to decipher what it had been. It was as if he could feel the area around him, the layout of the facility and its inhabitants, without being told anything about them. How could that even be possible? Since his eyes were of no use at the moment and only distracted him from this newfound ability, the prisoner closed them and tried to remember how he used the strange perception.

 _Maybe thinking about it too hard is causing the problem!_

He figured he'd never rediscover the ability if he stressed about it. A clear, calm mind seemed to be the smartest approach. One by one, the surroundings became next to nothing in his mind, their effects on him diminished. The temperature of the room, the texture of the floor, the dead silence, all pushed to the back of his mind. They had to be forgotten, even if for a second.

The calm of his mind finally paved the way to the sensation again. The prisoner was dumbfounded as he could sense the hallways outside his cell. It wasn't sight, it was beyond that, an indescribable certainty of what lie beyond the locked door.

 _Dozens, no, hundreds of other cells just like this one!_

The pain and agony, he could feel it coursing through the other inhabitants. This was no isolated incident, someone had thrown them all into this horrible punishment together.

 _But for what? What do we have in common?_

He could also sense his captors, their numbers daunting. A seemingly unfathomable amount of guards, all clad in the same white armor, some entering the various cells to do what the prisoner assumed were the regular beatings, but perhaps certain prisoners got it even worse, if that was even possible. Some guards were just standing around talking...

"I hate this planet, it gives me the creeps, man." one of the guards said.

"You kidding me? This has got to be the best job in the whole Empire, we got it easy, boys." another one chimed in.

"Wonder where Palpatine's gonna put us after he's done with his little lab rats." the first guard wondered out loud.

 _Palpatine? That must be the boss around here. He did this to me, to us! Are we just experiments? What could he be testing?_

The longer the prisoner used this ability, the easier it seemed to become. Reaching his mind out as far as a couple cell blocks down, he was able to listen in on a few other guards, but no other useful information came to him. With the insane concentration of guards in this facility, and a seemingly endless maze of hallways and dead ends, escape seemed next to impossible. The only thing left to do, it seemed, was complete whatever test this Palpatine was looking for. The prisoner opened his eyes once more, and looked up at the grated ceiling, noticing something he hadn't before. Water droplets on the very top of the metal, far out of reach, or so it seemed.

 _If I could detect things outside of sight or hearing range, what else could I be capable of?_

The prisoner closed his eyes once more, and cleared his mind of any interfering thoughts. He could sense the water above, and detected its source far above, a busted pipe in the ceiling of the room on the next floor. Deliberately sabotaged for the test or not, he could not pass up the opportunity. He pictured, in his mind, the pipe cracking open even more, he imagined every detail of this happening, the weak points in the metal casing, how much pressure it would require. He wanted that more than anything.

Focusing every ounce of strength on the pipe this way wasn't easy, but it was enough to bust it open just enough to let more water pour through the damaged casing. Using this ability again, he guided the small flow of water from the grated ceiling above and into his cell, where he lapped it up immediately. It was strangely both humiliating and victorious at the same time.

Near the busted pipe, the prisoner could sense something alive, crawling around the remains of the metal shell. Something small, fast, but not intelligent...

 _An insect! Desperate times call for desperate measures I suppose._

The starving Kaleesh could sense four of them, all of the same species, Devaronian sap drinkers, small blue bugs that were capable of flight. As long as he avoided the barbed stinger they had, they would suffice for the day. Not sure why a foreign insect was here on Byss, or why they would come to a prison instead of the wild, but his stomach did not care.

Reaching out with his mind, it was as easy as just thinking about it, he plucked the insects one by one and lowered them into his cell, where he consumed each one. The four bugs in total were quite meager but it was enough for the prisoner.

 _Perhaps it was all part of the test. The busted pipe, the foreign insects, all conveniently placed above his cell, there's no way it wasn't intentional._

Down the hall, the Kaleesh could sense the same three men who had been beating him during his entire time in the facility. They were approaching his cell. Had his acquisition of food and water caught their attention? He had no idea. The figures reached the other side of his cell and activated the same searing, ear shattering sound he had heard every day, it was difficult to get used to. The prisoner covered his ears and backed away a bit, preparing for what would come next.

The three demons entered the room, bright light blistered the prisoner's weakened eyes. He had to admit one thing, though, the food and water made the subsequent beatdown a little bit easier. When the soldiers were finished, they stood over the weakened Kaleesh and stared at him.

"What the hell made him choose you? You're pathetic." one of the soldiers said.

"If I pass this test, you will all die." the prisoner finally said.

"Maybe. If that's what he wants." the soldier replied calmly.

The soldiers turned around and left the cell, locking the door behind them as always. Once he found the strength to do so, the prisoner crawled back to the center of the room and meditated. He wondered what else his mind was capable of.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – This is FUBAR, From A Certain Point of View**

 _Two weeks... two whole weeks of this..._

Two weeks of brutal beatings, two weeks of eating feeble insects and drinking from ruined pipes, two weeks of sensory deprivation, and all for reasons he could not understand. Enough time had passed, the test was either over or soon would be, he had nothing left to lose. The prisoner could sense the guards coming down the hallway for their regularly scheduled beatdown. However, he would make sure this was anything but regular. Putting his mind to full capability, he was able to brush off the mechanical shrieking that typically wore down his ear drums. It was nothing to him. All he could focus on were his attackers.

 _My victims._

The troopers entered the room, but hesitated for the slightest moment when they saw their Kaleesh prisoner standing up, glaring at them with pure hatred in his eyes, and a menacing grin that stretched from ear to ear. The trio fully entered the room, still intent on performing their regular duty.

"If you think that's gonna stop what's coming, then I've got some bad news for you." the senior trooper said.

They each unfolded their metal batons, seemingly gaining back some confidence from having the power back in their control. That was not something the prisoner could allow.

"You won't be needing those." the prisoner said as he used his ability to snatch the weapons out of their hands and toss them aside.

The soldiers looked at each other, and even through their intimidating masks, the Kaleesh could sense the looks of dread on their now ghostly pale faces. Before they could properly act, the prisoner slid the cell door shut behind them. The three spun around in terror, then looked back at the prisoner.

"Th-there's three of us, and only one of y-you..." one of the soldiers said.

"Hardly a fair fight. For you." the Kaleesh said, still grinning.

One of the troopers lunged at the prisoner. The soldier seemed to move in slow motion, his actions far too easy to predict, this was going to be a piece of cake for the prisoner, who caught the trooper's arm mid swing and tossed him aside. The second soldier also attacked, but would not get it as easy as his friend, the Kaleesh decided.

The prisoner kicked the soldier's knee out, then forced his helmet off. The soldier looked up at his attacker in horror.

"Your eyes deceive you, I'm not the prisoner here, you are." the prisoner said, "Let me free you from your lying eyes."

With his clawed fingers, he brutally and quickly digs his way through the trooper's eye sockets, clawing their innards viciously. The soldier shrieks in a way the prisoner did not think possible. He scrapes through the bloody tunnels, scraping out every chunk of organic matter he can, then brutally retracts his hand from the soldier's head, letting the gory matter spill out onto the floor. The still breathing soldier falls to the ground in a pain nearly inconceivable, his shrieks filling the small cell. The other two troopers look on in total fear, wondering what fate awaits them. With the wounded soldier still rolling around in pain, the Kaleesh prisoner looks around at both of the others.

"Who wants to be next?" he asks.

"Take me." the senior soldier says as he removes his helmet, "No reason to fight, we're here for a purpose."

The other trooper backs into the corner of the room, as the Kaleesh blocks the exit. Their tormentor approaches the senior soldier.

"I remember what you told me before, about the will of your master, Palpatine. You still believe that?" the prisoner asked.

"Yes."

"It's not his will that has brought you to your demise, it's MINE!" the prisoner taunts.

The prisoner stares deep into the trooper's eyes, seemingly ready to spring into action at any moment, but absolutely still. The soldier in the corner of the room looks at his superior officer, wondering if he should take action, but the higher ranking trooper shakes his head no, instead looking back into the Kaleesh's hateful gaze.

"What is this, some kind of mind trick?" the trooper asks.

"It's no trick." the prisoner replies.

Summoning every ounce of strength his mind can offer, the prisoner floods the trooper's mind with every ounce of pain and suffering he had endured through the past two weeks. He focuses these sensations and memories directly into the soldier's comparably feeble brain, causing the victim to clutch his head and stumble backwards, screaming in horrific agony as he tries to fathom what his brain cannot process. He falls to his knees, banging his head against the floor, trying to shake the thoughts away in vain.

"PLEASE STOP!" the stormtrooper screams.

The Kaleesh prisoner grins as the trooper reels back, gasping for air, then falls onto his back, dead. Blood seeps out of his ears and eyes, his brain shriveled and hemorrhaged. Now, with only one other trooper left standing, the Kaleesh looks at him, a blank expression on his face.

"I'M SORRY, MAN, WE HAD TO DO WHAT WE DID, WASN'T NOTHING PERSONAL!" the trooper begs.

"It's all personal to me, soldier."

"You let me go, and I'll tell Palpatine you passed the test! He'll let you go! If you kill me, he'll never know, and you'll be stuck here!" the trooper tries to reason.

"This will be a message he'll understand." he replies.

Using the force, the Kaleesh lifts the trooper in the air by his throat, then pulls him closer. He wraps his hands around the soldier's throat, then slams him against the ground and squeezes with every last bit of strength he has. The soldier kicks and punches at the prisoner, but it does him no good.

"I only wish I could kill you three all over again." the Kaleesh says as he glares into the dying trooper's visor.

Eventually, the soldier stops struggling, and the prisoner senses the life in him fade away completely. He loosens his grip and looks over at the eyeless trooper, who is still crying out in pain.

"I hope they can hear that, they'll need to." the prisoner taunts.

Satisfied with the result of the battle, the prisoner stares at the door, sensing it was locked some time during the battle. He hoped he performed well in combat, and that whoever was behind could see what was left of their men. The prisoner began removing the strangled soldier's armor, then tearing off pieces of meat from the corpse and devouring it. It was enough for the hungry Kaleesh, who, over the course of the next day, consumed the soldier's entire torso and part of the head. It took about two hours for the newly blinded trooper to bleed to death from his wounds, but the prisoner still thought he got it too easy.

 _That is nothing compared to what I'll do to this Palpatine freak..._

Nearly a full day after the battle, the now full Kaleesh could sense something approaching. Not human, not Kaleesh, in fact nothing resembling any species he could recognize. There were two of these bizarre things approaching his cell. They appeared to be a void in the force, far more powerful than him, sinister and completely free of emotion, their minds as barren as the stone floor they walked upon.

Prepared for a fight, but accepting he would likely lose, the Kaleesh stood up, wielding a baton dropped by one of the troopers earlier. The door slid open, revealing the two beings as easily twice his own height, wearing elegant red cloaks and bizarre helmets that only showed glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce through the Kaleesh's soul, comprehending something that he could not.

Before the Kaleesh could even process what he was looking at, the two creatures simultaneously shifted their vibro-axe wielding hands, which forced the prisoner's arms up above his head. He tried, in vain, to move his arms, the strength holding them up was unlike anything he thought possible. It seemed effortless on the part of these two creatures, who said nothing, and still had disturbingly blank minds, yet were capable of these extraordinary powers.

One of them slightly raised a finger, controlling a set of arm shackles that levitated through the air, traveled through the cell, and locked around the prisoner's arms. The telepathic grip on his arms was loosened, but the shackles still kept him from doing anything more.

"Follow." one of the beings said in a deep, droid-like manner.

One of the beings walked off, down the hall. Seeing no other option, the prisoner exited the cell for the very first time. The hallways were quite large, presumably to make sure the giant Imperial Sentinel creatures could pass through without bumping into the walls. There weren't any windows, at least not that the prisoner could see, the hallways were instead lit with dim green lights, hardly enough to light the hallway completely. The prisoner doubted the design was unintentional.

The prisoner and his Sentinel escorts walked past dozens of other cells. He could feel the presence of some of the inhabitants, some on the verge of dying, some seemed to be using the same ability that he had discovered, and some were just plain dead. Down one of the adjacent hallways, the Kaleesh watched as troopers opened one of the cell doors, batons ready, taunting the prisoner before entering.

"Keep moving." one of the Sentinels said as it smacked the Kaleesh in the back with the handle of its vibro-axe.

The prisoner obeyed and continued moving down the hallway. Though the beings had not specified where he was headed, he had a feeling he knew. The two beings led him through several terminals of heavily armed troopers, the ever scrutinizing officers, the unnerving, calculating droids, and biometric scanners. No matter how high ranking or how intimidating, all made way immediately when seeing the towering Sentinels.

"Jeez, those guys just come out of nowhere." one of the officers muttered.

"Hate to be on their bad side." a trooper added.

The Sentinels either did not hear them or didn't care, as they continued unfettered through the terminals of the prison. Some of the troopers and officers looked at the prisoner in curiosity, maybe they knew about what he had done, or maybe they were aware of whatever fate was in store for him. Eventually, the Sentinel escort led the prisoner through a gigantic metal gate, which was magnetically locked.

After the massive barrier slowly unlocked and opened, the prisoner was surprised to see what the planet's surface actually looked like. Instead of the hellish, miserable world he had imagined, it was a like something out of a beautiful painting. A sprawling city teeming with life, with bustling landing pads, crowded streets, massive towers, millions of ships in the skies. The sky itself was a deep green hue, bizarre, but fascinating nonetheless. This was not just a planet for Imperials, it looked like creatures from all walks of life were both living here, doing business here, or visiting. There was no denying the massive Imperial presence on the planet, but it was inhabited with a much more daunting amount of sentients than the prisoner had expected, not as many as Coruscant, but still.

 _Wait, I remember Coruscant? Huh._

Despite the outward beauty of this planet and its presumed capital city, something felt very, very off about it. It was a deep feeling in the pit of the Kaleesh's stomach, something he could not even comprehend with the Force. It was unlikely the inhabitants were aware of this feeling that the prisoner found unshakable. It was more than just the Imperial presence, it was more than just the prison, something was wrong with the planet itself.

"View is over." one of the Sentinels said hollowly as it once again smacked the prisoner in the back with the handle of the vibro-axe.

They were headed to the end of the landing pad, where an Imperial shuttle was docked, surrounded by several of the familiar white armor-clad troopers. The prisoner boarded the shuttle easily, but the Sentinels with their daunting height attempted to squeeze their way into the interior of the ship. Even though the prisoner's long term memory was next to nothing, he was sure this had to be the most awkward boarding of an Imperial shuttle in history.

"Um, perhaps you-" a Stormtrooper began to say.

"I wouldn't." another Stormtrooper advised.

"Yeah, on second thought, nevermind." the first Stormtrooper said.

Eventually, the Sentinels, without the help of the troopers, barely fit their way into the shuttle. Without hesitation, the ship lifts up off the landing pad and flies away from the prison. The further along in the trip, the more present the unnerving feeling became. Through the viewport, among the abundance of busy and lit up structures, one tower seemed to stand out from the others, it appeared to be the tallest one in the city. It was very slender from the base all the way until the top, which was a massive dome with a smooth, reddish metallic surface. The prisoner didn't even have to ask, he just knew this was his destination.

A landing pad began to slowly extend as the shuttle grew closer to this citadel. The ship docked, then let out a hiss as the door lowered. The Sentinels both looked at the prisoner with their empty, terrifying gazes, which he took as a cue to leave first. Once outside the ship, he could confirm that the mysterious, seemingly evil aura of this planet was at its strongest on this facility. Once the Sentinels disembarked the ship, they led the prisoner into the citadel.

The interior of this fortress was crawling with robed figures, some of whom were Sentinels, but many were just regular sized weirdos who stared at the prisoner as he passed by. Eventually, the two Sentinels led the prisoner to what seemed to be a large, grand throne room, with a massive circular viewport that overlooked the best part of the city. At the base of this viewport was the throne itself, facing the other way.

"Congratulations, my pupil, you are the first of your batch to set foot in my citadel." said the voice of an old man. Though the man did not seem to speak above a whisper, his voice carried throughout the room in such a way that every syllable seemed to carry with it a sense of power and wisdom that struck the very core of the prisoner's being.

"You're Palpatine, aren't you?" the prisoner asked.

"You will come to know me as Master, and Emperor." the man replied as he turned in his chair to face the prisoner.

This... thing, barely resembled anything a human should look like. The old man almost seemed to be a thousand years old, truly resembling a living corpse. The Emperor's eyes, although slightly off center, told the prisoner everything he needed to know about this sick, twisted being. This planet's bizarre and evil aura was most certainly radiating from him, and despite the man's outwardly frail appearance, the Kaleesh could sense a great deal of power surging through Palpatine.

"Guards, leave us at once." Palpatine said sternly.

As if they had anticipated this command, the two Sentinels walked backwards out of the throne room.

"I will never call you master, you monster." the prisoner barked.

"Such ambition. For you to believe that you will resist what I have set in motion, it is pointless and I will not humor it. Perhaps it is information you seek... your identity. Your name is Namlel Mor, thirty three years of age. No doubt through the teachings of your elders, you were raised to despise the Yam'rii. Despite the war between your two species ending when you were an infant, you decided to carry out your own guerilla war against them on their planet."

As the Emperor spoke, a flood of memories struck the prisoner, Mor, memories of his life as a warrior. Sitting around the fire with his elders when they told him of his father's murder in the Huk War, slain in combat by the Yam'rii. Memories of training in the jungle, building his stamina and raw strength, developing tactics. Memories of flying to the Yam'rii homeworld of Huk, alone, going village to village burning down homes, slicing apart survivors with a machete, sniping their warriors with his rifle...

"It... it's beginning to come back to me. It's true. So is that what this is, punishment for what I did to them?" the prisoner asked.

"No, on the contrary, I admired your efforts from afar, the way you harnessed your hatred and used it to fuel your bloody war against the Yam'rii. Your work, however, was sloppy, unrefined, but there was potential, and that is why you are here. Through your trial of pain and suffering, you discovered your true strength, as I'd hoped you would."

"So, if I passed, what happens to me now?" Mor asked.

"You will go back, for a short time. Just until the other prisoners finish their tests. Then, the honing of your skills will begin, under my supervision."

Without needing to say anything, the Sentinels re-enter the room and flank Mor.

"Do not worry, my pupil, when you return to your cell this time, you will find some amenities to make your stay more fit for an Adept. In time, you will find that your place in the galaxy is under my control."

As the Emperor turned back around in his chair, the Sentinels led Namlel Mor back out of the throne room. The bizarre encounter with the old man was not at all what he had expected, but if he wanted Mor to play his game, then that's what he would do.

When Mor returned to his cell, he quickly realized it was indeed fixed up a bit in his absence. Now, a bright light hung from the ceiling grate, a bed lay in the corner, and the door had a slot for food. The Emperor had kept his word, but it would not save him, not if Mor had anything to say about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Kthx1138bye**

Back at the Emperor's grand citadel overlooking the capital city of Byss, in a gym sized room with marble floors and walls, Namlel Mor kneeled amongst fifteen other prisoners of many different kinds of species, three humans, a Rodian, a Quarren, and a few creatures Mor could not identify, though he was certainly the only Kaleesh in the room. None of the prisoners spoke, but Mor could sense their minds were conflicted with following a path of servitude or a path of vengeance. With so many of them and only one of him, what chance would the old man stand?

Flanked by four of his towering Imperial Sentinels, the Emperor entered the throne room through a side entrance that led to the slightly elevated sub-section where his throne and view resided. The Sentinels took their places, equidistant from one another, with Palpatine in the center, carefully examining each of the prisoners with his powerful gaze.

"I congratulate you all on being the fifteen out of one hundred sixty to survive your imprisonments." the Emperor said, "You are truly the strongest candidates. But your tests are far from over. Though you survived through seemingly impossible circumstances of starvation, dehydration, and beatings among other things, your combat training will certainly be your most challenging. Some of you will perish. But those of you who survive will find yourselves among the highest ranking warriors in my Empire, as my Dark Side Adepts, you will command legions of soldiers, entire fleets, they will be your tools in maintaining order in the galaxy. Fear is what separates the master from the apprentice, but hatred is what fuels both parties in all of their actions. I sense much hate in one of you in particular, even at this very moment, it is unmistakable."

The Emperor looked over at Namlel Mor, who only focused his glare more.

"Yes, Namlel Mor, I can sense every ounce of your hatred, it fuels the fire within you. I am a sick old man, you could strike me down, after everything I've put you through. You see it, don't you? A chance. Take it!"

That was all the motivation Mor needed to use the Force to pull the lightsaber from Palpatine's cloak and pull it into his own hands, activating it as he full on sprinted towards the old man. The blade shot out from the hilt with the famous hiss and humming of the age-old weapon of the Jedi and Sith. The crimson blade illuminated Mor's hateful expression as he rushed towards his victim.

Before he could reach him, the vibro-axe of the closest Sentinel blocked his path. Having anticipated this, Mor brought the saber down on the hilt of the axe, but to his surprise, it did not sever the weapon in half as intended. The Kaleesh prisoner halted his attack in surprise, clashing weapons with the Sentinel again, confused, but still adamant in his attack. Mor slid the lightsaber down to the Sentinel's wrist, slicing off its left hand.

To the prisoner's absolute horror, the Sentinel did not cry out in agony, or even flinch. It simply looked at Mor with those emotionless red eyes. It raised its cauterized stump, and with it, Mor felt himself rise into the air, and with a flick of the creature's injured wrist, Mor was cast through the air, then slammed hard on the cold, unforgiving ground and held down with unimaginable force.

The Emperor laughed maniacally at the entire ordeal, then looked at the other prisoners, who were all shocked by what they'd just witnessed.

"Your master admires and rewards hatred and boldness, but will not tolerate disobedience..." Palpatine warned, "Let my Sentinels demonstrate for you all the result of such a rash move on the part of our Kaleesh comrade."

One by one, the four Sentinels walked over to the bottom step of the elevated throne section, all glaring soullessly at Mor, who began to feel the combined pressure of their zombie-like minds prodding at his mind.

"Heh, I know this trick, I did it to one of your troopers!" Mor said mockingly, "I loaded his mind with the agony I experienced, it destroyed his mind, but my mind is not so weak!"

"It is not pain my Sentinels will show you, I'm afraid it is something far more terrifying." the Sith Lord said with a smile.

It was as if something was carving its way through Mor's consciousness with a knife, prying apart his very thoughts and revealing... nothing. More than darkness, it was a complete void. The longer it went on, the harder it was to resist, this otherworldly chasm of the mind became deeper. The layers of Mor's reality were peeling back, sending his entire body into an uncontrollable and agonizing spasm.

"Pain, suffering, agony, all carnal and tangible experiences, but my Sentinels have a different idea of torture. It is beyond the force. They do not know emotion, their personalities erased, foreign are the concepts of desire or greed. It is a freedom none of us will ever know, it unlocks more potential for their power, as you can now see."

Mor felt that at any moment, he would be consumed with this terrifyingly blank and never-ending reality, unable to return. It was a fate far worse than death, and after this, how could any other form of pain ever frighten him? Every one of Mor's senses screamed out to him, begging to be rid from this plane of existence, lest they carry the weight of this agony for the rest of his life.

"Do you realize what you're seeing, son? The absence of everything that is sentience. With the power of all four of the Sentinels combined, I'm sure it is very traumatizing. I almost envy you, my friend."

"JUST KILL ME!" Mor screamed, "PLEASE KILL ME!"

"Stop at once!" Palpatine shouted.

The Sentinels instantly ceased their mental barrage of Mor, who lay on the cold, marble floor, reeling from the attack.

"Namlel Mor has just taken the next step in his training, he has far exceeded any of you. The weak beg for life, it gives their enemies something to hold against them. The strong know endless agony, they see death as their only acceptable escape from suffering, it gives their enemies nothing to frighten them with, no bargaining chip to trade. That is the strength you will all learn, or perish. Well done, my pupil."

"Thank you, my master." Mor said graciously.

Despite his newfound respect for the old man, Mor still felt a great deal of hatred, not only towards him, but to the mindless, zombie-like Sentinels that stood motionless by their Emperor. Seething with fury, there was no doubt in Mor's mind that he would slaughter them before his training was to be completed.

Within the next hour, the trainees were all tested in the throne room separately to discourage any mingling, and given lightsabers, ones taken from fallen Jedi. It seemed most had been retrofitted with red crystals, but the hilts and most of the inner components were original. Palpatine oversaw each of the tests, observing the various trainees, while the others waited patiently outside, completely silent. Now it was Mor's turn for evaluation. The Emperor stood in the center of the throne room, and Mor approached his master, lightsaber in hand.

"Your experience with a machete during campaign against the Yam'rii should be a good enough starting point for your lightsaber training." the Emperor said.

"The force is my weapon," Mor said, "the medium I deliver my killing blows with makes no difference to me. Lightsaber, machete, rifle, it is all the same."

"Very good. There will be no room for error in this test."

"There won't be." the Kaleesh warrior said sternly.

"Good. It will begin shortly." Palpatine said as he left the room.

Once the old man was gone, all the lights in the throne room went out, which was fine with Mor, the Force would guide his actions. He kept his lightsaber off for the moment, as the light emitting from it could distract him from completing his test and impressing the wicked old man, who he could tell was not far.

Mor could sense something else in the room. Actually, more than a few somethings. Whatever they were, they were closing in on him, and they weren't looking to make friends. They seemed quite predictable, but inorganic.

 _Droids._

With a smirk, Mor activated his lightsaber just in time to deflect a blaster shot from an assassin droid on the ceiling. From the side, an old Magnaguard, complete with an electro-staff, lunged out from the darkness, but Mor was prepared for such a move, and locked weapons with the soulless machine. The assassin droid above fired once more, but missed when Mor leaped out of the way and clashed weapons with the Magnaguard again. Several flying probots entered the room through previously hidden panels in the wall, all firing their lasers at Mor. These were no training shots, these were lethal if landed right.

 _More fun for me._

All of the droids, though uniquely designed and practical against non-Adepts, were far too predictable for Mor, who deflected shots back at his attackers, destroying all of the probots. The assassin droid, however, was a bit more durable. While still dueling the Magnaguard, Mor used the Force to crush the section of the ceiling the assassin droid was hanging onto, making it crash down hard on the ground.

Mor finished off the Magnaguard by impaling it through the chest, then kicking it to the ground. Using the Force, Mor snatched the blaster out of the assassin droid's hand, then tossed his saber through the air, sending it straight into the droid's head, then pulled it back into his hand. The lights in the room came back on as Palpatine re-entered the room.

"You destroyed them in record time, my pupil. I am most pleased." the old man said.

Before Mor could reply, he could sense a familiar feeling, the same void from before. The Sentinels were re-entering the room by the throne itself.

"I can feel your hatred of the Sentinels..." the Emperor said, "They were once Adepts like you. They are the ones who could not be broken, impossible minds to crack. It is very rare. Their minds have been inhibited, their emotions wiped from existence, their thoughts belong to their master, their bodies morphed and twisted by the power of the dark side. By not offering their complete devotion to our cause, they chose their fates, as you choose yours. I know what I would choose."

"I think I just made my decision." Mor said.

"I know you have. Destroy them, if you can." Palpatine said with a grin.

Using his mind, Mor activates one of the fallen droids' blasters, firing a single shot at one of the Sentinels, who deflects the shot with their hand, allowing Mor to pull the giant's vibro-axe away and toss it to the other side of the room. Seeing his newest victim unarmed, Mor sprints towards him, and with all his might, leaps through the air and brings his saber down through the creature's head, killing it.

The other three Sentinels, ready for a fight, begin to approach Mor. He began to feel them attempting to do their previous trick on him, only this time, he was prepared.

"There are only three of you now, and I know how it works." Mor said, "You'll have to do better than that."

One of the Sentinels raised its hand at Mor, sending a massive shockwave his way. Standing his ground, Mor held back the blast, which blew apart the floor around him and tattered his prison outfit. Filled with rage, he sent back a shockwave of his own, sending the Sentinel flying backwards, slamming into the wall and shattering many of its bones.

Mor swung his saber at the closest Sentinel, clashing with its vibro-axe, withstanding the intensity of the lightsaber. The two sparred, both intent on killing one another, anticipating the others' moves. The other intact Sentinel, the one whose hand Mor had sliced off earlier, joined in the fight, viciously swinging its axe one handed at Mor, who was enjoying the fight against the two behemoths.

The Sentinel who was attacking from behind unleashed a flurry of force lightning against Mor, crippling him momentarily as the Sentinel in front swung his axe for a killing blow. Through the bolts of lightning that swept through him, he pushed through and deflected the other Sentinel's blade, knocking the creature backwards, then turned to the lightning throwing Sentinel.

"I'm gonna take that other hand of yours now." Mor said as he gritted his teeth through the lightning that swarmed him.

Mor swiped his blade upwards, carving through the previously injured wrist directly through the middle. The Sentinel ceased its barrage of lightning, and although did not falter in pain, Mor didn't expect or need it to. Slicing downwards on its uninjured hand, he amputated the giant's other hand, then impaled the creature directly through the heart.

Sensing the other Sentinel had gotten back to its feet, Mor kicked the now dead Sentinel's corpse away and turned to block the other's axe swing.

"You made your choice, now I'm making mine!" Mor said as the two continued to clash their weapons.

From the other side of the room, Mor could sense the injured Sentinel from earlier, who had been thrown against the wall, was attempting something. The creature's blank mind was hard to read into, but it was unmistakably planning a sneak attack. While still fighting the axe wielding Sentinel, Mor used the force to levitate a fallen vibro-axe and flung it through the air, impaling the wounded Sentinel in the stomach.

Continuing the assault on the other Sentinel, going on the offense, Mor blasted his opponent with blow after blow with the lightsaber. Clearly overestimating its own height, the creature prepared a killing blow from above, exposing a weakness the Kaleesh thought too obvious. Taking advantage of this, the Kaleesh warrior sliced off the being's legs at the knees, then snatched the vibro-axe from his opponent's hands, dropping his lightsaber as he brought the axe down on the Sentinel's head over and over again, cracking its helmet open and puncturing its skull, killing it. Once he was certain of the creature's demise, he tossed the axe aside and used the Force to bring his lightsaber back into his grip.

Looking over at the other Sentinel by the wall, he could sense the life fading from it as it weakly clutched the axe still stuck through its body, pinning it to the wall. Mor approached the dying Sentinel, standing over it with his lightsaber ready.

"My only regret is that you Sentinels do not beg for your lives when I slay you." Mor said as he reared his saber back, then swiped hard across the Sentinel's throat, killing it. Satisfied with his victory over his tormentors, Mor reeled back and screamed out a warrior's call that echoed throughout the chamber. This was followed by applause from the Emperor, who approached Mor.

"You have far exceeded my expectations, my pupil, I am most impressed." the Emperor said.

In the far corner of the room, Mor could sense another being, similar to Palpatine in power. The figure approached, and it didn't take long for the Kaleesh to recognize who it was.

"We have been monitoring your progress, allow me to introduce-" the Dark Lord began.

"I know who he is. You're Darth Vader."

The other Dark Lord said nothing, but like his master, his thoughts revealed everything Mor needed to know. The masked Sith warrior looked down at the Kaleesh, viewing him as competition. The man's mechanical breathing sound did not frighten Namlel the way it did most.

"We will personally escort you to the medical bay, Adept." Palpatine offered.

"I will be fine, the pain is a reminder that maintains my strength. Besides, the medical droids seem more suited to serve Vader. You know all about those, don't you, scabby? How many visits to them do you need for them to make sure your weak, scorched carcass stays together long enough to kneel at your master's feet?"

Mor begins to feel the grip around his throat, but sees it's only meant as a warning, not as a fatal attack. He repels the scare tactic with his own force abilities, cackling as Palpatine glares at Vader to cease the hostility.

"In any case, I have a reward for you, come, let me show you." Palpatine said as he and Vader walked off.

Mor followed the two through the grand citadel. They led him to a small, yet grand suite overlooking the city below. Fancy curtains, comfortable looking bed, all the amenities one could ask for on a luxurious planet like Byss.

"You have earned it." Palpatine said, "Your next test will begin soon."

With that, Palpatine and his lap dog Vader left, leaving Mor to walk around his new living space, not only to see what kind of luxuries he'd been given, but also to inspect for any kind of listening devices the Imperials may have placed to keep a close eye on the Adept. Nonetheless, it was far nicer than his old cell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Oh Snap**

 _This is a test. It has to be._

The room didn't appear to be bugged, but it didn't need to be. The location itself was perfect for a test. The window provided an easy escape from the citadel, he could probably hide himself amongst the crowds of beings in the streets below. It was too easy, it was intended that way, it had to be.

 _Well, joke's on you, Palpatine, I'm not so easily tempted._

Before Mor could sit down to meditate, he caught a glimpse of something further up on the citadel's outside wall. Looking closer, he saw that someone else had the same idea he did, another trainee had fallen right into the trap laid by their master. It was a Twi'lek, male it seemed, and he was quick in his descent of the citadel wall. Mor watched, then huffed in amusement.

 _Weak._

Then, the Kaleesh warrior had an idea. This Twi'lek would undoubtedly be captured and most likely killed for his very apparent sign of weakness. It would be of no consequence to Mor to go after him and kill him, if anything, it would help him win respect from his master. If the Twi'lek had made it this far in the training, he would surely be a challenge, but his cowardly attitude revealed more about his character than Mor required.

Lightsaber in hand, Mor hurried out of his room and down the various halls, he knew the best place to confront the traitor. The middle of the tower contained an extended exterior platform, for what purpose, Mor was unsure, but it would be perfect, as the Twi'lek had no choice but to stop on it during his way down.

Sprinting with everything he had, Mor reached the level marking the halfway point to the bottom of the tower. He could sense the coward still a little ways above, fearing for his life as he descended unknowingly towards his demise. Mor exited the door, feeling the cool, strong rush of air hit him in the face, and the sound of the busy streets below. He stayed tucked away out of view of the Twi'lek, he wanted to surprise his next victim.

The other trainee eventually lowered himself to Mor's level, and froze upon seeing the Kaleesh standing there, lightsaber in hand.

"You will not leave this place alive." Mor said as he activated his saber.

"Why are you trying to stop me? After what they did to us, you should be coming with me!" the Twi'lek said.

"They made me better. I'm grateful for their guidance, unlike you. I'll be their instrument in weeding out those unworthy for their teachings." Mor said proudly.

"Then you leave me no choice." the other Adept said as he too activated his saber.

As the Twi'lek charged towards Mor, it was apparent to the Kaleesh that his opponent's form, although driven by the same hatred and fear of his own, was unoriginal and predictable. Mor clashed sabers with him, excited by the fight, toying with the coward.

"After I kill you, my master will reward my effort!" Mor said with a smile.

Before the Twi'lek could respond, he instantly ceased fighting, clutching his throat and gasping for air. Mor stepped back and tilted his head in confusion, then turned around to see none other than Vader himself, flanked by three other Adepts. Fist clenched, Vader stepped forward, tossing his saber through the air, impaling the Twi'lek. After effortlessly retrieving the saber with the force, Vader sent the coward's corpse flying away from the tower, down to the streets hundreds of stories below.

"You will not be taking credit for anything, Namlel Mor." Vader said firmly.

"Are you and your gang of B-students going to stop me?" Mor said as he readied his saber.

The three Adepts, all dressed in black from head to toe, with red goggles covering their eyes, were hard to distinguish, not only were their species unidentifiable, but their thoughts were all quite similar as well, all put through unimaginable pain, well shaped by their masters and unafraid of death.

 _This will be interesting._

The Adepts all charged at once. Anticipating their simultaneous attacks was almost as tricky as blocking them, their tenacious styles seemed to together in a flurry of fast and strong lightsaber swings. Mor force pushed one of them aside, focusing his defense on the other two. Putting all his strength into it, he smacked his saber against another, forcing another Adept to the ground, allowing him to very briefly focus on one of the Adepts. Seeing an opening in this one's offense, he dodged one of their swipes and sliced his saber upwards, carving through their torso and through their chin and forehead, killing them.

It didn't take long for the other two Adepts to recover and continue their assault, though this time their anger at their comrade's death did not work in their favor this time, it hindered their focus slightly, just enough for Mor to exploit. As the two worked together as one in their assault, Mor knew his next move. In one quick motion, he sliced off the hands of the one on his right, then, continuing his swing, clashed sabers with the other, not losing any momentum. Still locking sabers, he kicked the now handless Adept in the chest, knocking him down and out.

"I have to admit, you all have been much more of a fight than those Sentinels." Mor said to the last Adept.

"You will kneel to Vader before your last breath, Kaleesh." the other Adept said.

"No, it is you who will kneel." Mor said as he had an idea.

Knocking the Adept slightly off balance with his attack, Mor sliced downward, cutting the Adept's right leg off at the knee, forcing the wounded warrior to collapse to his left knee and stump of the right knee. Mor laughed, then beheaded the warrior. He looked back at the Adept he had cut the hands off of, he was still on the ground, unable to fight, but not crying out in agony as Mor had hoped.

"Kill me now and get it over with." the wounded Adept said.

"No." Mor said.

Using the force to grab a tight hold around the Adept's neck, he squeezed with enough power to cause serious damage, but not enough to kill him. As he did this, Mor cut his saber across various parts of the Adept's body, targeting the knees, wrists, thighs, anywhere he could inflict a non-fatal wound. The Adept did his best to not scream in pain, Mor respected that, focusing his force grip on the Adept's voice box, damaging it beyond repair.

"Now you will be mute and worthless to your master. Enjoy a fate worse than death." Mor said as he walked away from the horrifically injured Adept.

Vader still stood by the entrance to the platform, watching as Mor approached him, both of their sabers in hand and at the ready.

"Your pet soldiers failed you, Vader, now it's your turn." Mor said boldly.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall." Vader replied.

The Kaleesh charged towards his opponent and locked sabers with the mechanical monster. Mor hadn't quite anticipated Vader's raw strength, but it was no matter to him.

"During my training, The Emperor told me that he has the ability to transfer his mind to a far more youthful cloned body when he needs it." Mor said, "Why doesn't he do the same for his apprentice, the all powerful Lord Vader? After all these years? You know why he doesn't do that? Because you are nothing. No, you are less than nothing, a pawn in his game, make no mistake about it, you will be replaced and cast aside. Without the will of your master, you are a broken man, your burned flesh and life support should be a daily reminder of that."

Mor laughed as Vader's fury fueled his next attacks, but quickly realized he may have made a mistake, as the Dark Lord's technique was accumulated over many, many years and tested in possibly hundreds of duels against worthy opponents. Determined to not become another name on Vader's kill list, Mor parried many of the attacks, but found himself unable to deflect all of them, as Vader swiped across Mor's left arm, not severing it, but cutting it very deeply.

Using a one handed saber technique to defend himself now, Mor desperately fought off the Sith Lord, looking for any opening or weakness in his technique, but saw none. Vader then sliced across Mor's stomach, making the Kaleesh drop his lightsaber and collapse to the ground. He looked up at the old Sith Lord, gasping for air, but ignoring the pain.

"That was a very... good fight, Vader..." Mor said.

"Most excellent, indeed, Lord Vader..." Palpatine said, revealing his presence as he stepped onto the platform from the doorway, "We have tested your limit, Namlel Mor, you have completed your training. You have far exceeded any of the others in your batch. You are now one of my personal Adepts. We will discuss your first task after you've recovered."

"Thank you, my master." Mor replied gratefully.

Several medical droids appeared on the scene with stretchers, putting Mor and the other injured Adept on them.

"Oh yes, I have a use for you as well," Palpatine said to the other gravely injured Adept, "Although your fate will not be as grand as your rival's, you will have your place in my Empire."

With that, the medical droids carried the two of them off. Mor didn't particularly care what happened to the other Adept, he was just glad to have not only survived the duel with Vader, but succeed in his training. His rebirth would prove to be his greatest test, and now, galactic dominance was his goal, with or without Palpatine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Leaving the Nest**

It took Namlel Mor two whole months to fully heal from the wounds received in his duel with the dark lord himself, Vader. He'd underestimated his opponent, gravely, in a move that nearly cost him his life. His arrogance had been exploited, and for the first time in a long time, it made him feel vulnerable. A murderous rage brewed in the Kaleesh's thoughts as he was nursed back to health, but the healing was not to ease the pain, only to restore himself to combat ready performance again. The pain itself was a constant reminder of his failure, it inspired him to fight harder. In a way, he thought he should thank Vader, but figured it would make little difference.

Mor's efforts in his training had indeed been rewarded, he'd been allowed to keep his penthouse style suite in the Emperor's Citadel, the tallest structure on Byss, the lush paradise retreat deep near the the Galactic Core. More importantly, Mor was expecting any day now to be given his first task as an adept. His true purpose in life, it was clear now, to be in service to the most powerful being in the galaxy, Emperor Palpatine himself. Despite the immense loathing he felt towards his master, he respected his power and ability to build up and maintain an incredible galaxy-spanning government.

The hum of a floating probe droid nearby broke the nearly deafening silence in Mor's chambers. It didn't break his concentration, it had been programmed to enter around this time as expected. Without making any beeps or boops to alert its master, it stayed near the entrance, hovering quietly in the air. Mor knew what was going to happen, it was absolutely necessary.

"Droid-" Mor said.

Before he could even finish his command, a blindingly bright green light flashed from the droid's chrome arm, and Mor collapsed to his knees in agony, reeling from the blast. Gritting his teeth to bear the brunt of the pain, he knew the droid's programming had been effective, but he hadn't anticipated how fast it would react. Indeed, it was far better than the ones he had gone up against during his training.

The scorching feeling in his ribs seared and pulsed continuously, exactly what he'd hoped for. He took no pleasure in it, that would defeat the purpose in his eyes. This exercise was one of Mor's concepts he was willing to try on himself, one in pain tolerance. Relatively low risk, low powered blaster shots prepared him for the inevitable, the day he'd go up against opponents with guns of their own.

He fought back the urge to destroy the droid, containing his anger as he looked back at it.

"Now." Mor said.

Another flash of light sent Mor all the way to the ground now, crashing onto his back and screeching in pain as the burning sensation filled his chest. He could feel his skin begin to char and peel as he struggled to continue breathing normally. Pushing through the pain, a sign of weakness, he found the strength to stand back up, albeit with a lack of complete balance.

He could sense a dark, sinister presence coming closer. Evil incarnate, the embodiment of every nasty part of the human soul, headed his way. It was unmistakably his master. The main door to the penthouse suite slid open, allowing Palpatine to enter.

"Well done, my apprentice..." the Emperor said with a horrible grin, "I hope I am not interrupting."

"Not at all, my master..." Mor said as he dropped to one knee, "I was just finishing my exercises."

"You have allowed pain to become your ally..." Palpatine observed, "Once you master it, forever will it fuel your strengths."

"Yes, my lord, your teachings have served me well." Mor replied humbly.

"Indeed they have," Palpatine agreed, "That is why I believe you are ready for your first mission. I expect nothing less than complete and total victory."

"I will do whatever it is that you ask." Mor stated, curiosity growing.

"Have you ever heard of a holocron, my pupil?" Palpatine asked.

"I have not." Mor answered.

"They are ancient devices that allow those who are attuned to the Force to connect with the physical world after their demise." the Emperor explained, "Not exactly immortality, these devices are not connected with the spirits of the deceased, but they rather capture the likeness and teachings of them and present them in a very realistic way."

"You want me to find one of these..." Mor surmised.

"Yes..." the Emperor said with a smile, "go to the remains of Malachor V, a planet in the Outer Rim. The holocron's location will be revealed to you there, my friend."

"I will go at once," Mor said as he rose to his feet, "I will not let you down."

"Prove to me that you are ready to serve the dark side of the Force..." Palpatine said, "Take the Infiltrator that is docked on the Citadel's landing pad. When you are off this world, leave no survivors in your wake. Do not return without the holocron."

"Understood. Thank you, my master." Mor said as he walked away.

The Emperor appeared to see right through Mor, knowing all of his intentions and thoughts, but the Kaleesh was unable to do the same in return. While Palpatine's intentions and morality were plainly obvious, the man's thoughts and plans were buried under a thick veil that had no doubt accumulated through years of masking. What a useful skill to have. Was he collecting holocrons to gain more knowledge? Was he testing Mor's ability to track things through the force? Was he testing his faith?

 _No matter,_ the Kaleesh thought as he followed his master's instructions, stepping outside to the cool air of Byss, a sprawling city in front of him as he walked across the landing platform of the Emperor's grand Citadel. The Sith Infiltrator ahead of him was state of the art, armed with a cloaking device, multiple blaster cannons, and holding cells for captured force adepts. It was all he needed to complete his task, and he knew it.

Navigating hyperspace from Byss was difficult at best. The Deep Core contained many anomalies, some that Mor determined with unnatural in origin, making the area of the galaxy tough to reach even without the Imperial presence that was so abundant. Nevertheless, using his master's thorough teachings, he was able to successfully leave the Deep Core and reach the Outer Rim on schedule, arriving in the Malachor system that seemed to be darker than any void in space. Something cataclysmic had happened here many years ago, Mor didn't need to know the history to see that. The shattered remains of a planet still floated in orbit of its star.

Approaching this dead planet, the rubble seemed to call out to him. Millions of voices, suffering and wailing endlessly, spiraling through space unable to find peace after death, and they beckoned for him to come closer. For the first time, Mor felt uneasy, he knew it was the dead who spoke to him. The calling he felt was beyond words, it wasn't something heard, per se, rather he felt it. To the untrained, it was overwhelming, terrifying, but it was exactly what Namlel had hoped to find.

Scanning through the rubble with his ship's scanners, his own eyes, and with the force, he wasn't surprised that there were no holocrons here. That would have been too easy, to simply pick up one of these fabled devices just floating around. The voices, however, seemed to have information he needed. Their words were deafening, but utilizing his training, he was able to quiet them one by one, sifting through them to hear what he needed to hear. He knew what he was looking for. The one who spoke the ancient Sith language.

 _Teth... His essence lives on... in Teth..._

That was all he needed. Grateful yet unsure how to return his gratitude, Mor sped off, far away from the dead who were now left alone once more to suffer in whatever existence they had. He wasn't sure who exactly **he** was, presumably the gatekeeper of the holocron had left more than just his likeness inside the device.

Another hyperspace jump allowed Namlel Mor to view the planet Teth from orbit. From what he knew about this world, it had long been a sanctuary for the Hutts and their criminal enterprises. Arguably one of the more well known worlds in Wild Space, the strange fringes of the galaxy's borders, Teth was the kind of place one could seemingly get away with anything and not have to worry about prying eyes. It would make Mor's job significantly easier.

The voices hadn't told him where exactly on Teth the holocron would be, but that didn't mean the trail was cold. He knew just where to begin his search. The city of Inner Teth hosted numerous cantinas that attracted only the lowest scum in the galaxy, far out of the way of anyone who was trying to make an honest living. Hundreds of spacers, all either hauling precious cargo for the Hutts or carrying out business with them, passed through here every day.

Docking at one of the space ports, Mor's Sith Infiltrator really stood out from the rest of the ships. For one, it actually had value and didn't resemble the bottom of a toilet. It mattered very little, it was simply a tool that could be replaced, and he wouldn't be gone long. A short walk away was a cantina which had a name in a language he did not recognize. Stepping into the swill hole, he found the establishment had steady business, but was not packed by any means.

A few patrons looked his way as he entered, then returned their looks to their drinks. Others paid him no mind at all. Reading through their feeble minds, he wasn't able to gather much useful information, so he headed to the bar area and sat down, a plump Draag to his left and a Gran to his left. The Draag paid him no mind, so he focused his mind on the Gran, he could see that the alien's thoughts were occupied with delivering something to Tanz the Hutt, frozen nerfs packed with some kind of drug in their carcasses. The Gran looked over at Mor curiously. He appeared to have a human cohort next to him, who was now also looking at him.

"You Reggie?" the Gran asked.

"What?" Mor asked.

"Nevermind, thought you had a reason for sitting right there." the Gran replied.

"What if I do have a reason?" Mor asked, turning his whole body to the ugly alien.

"And what would that be?" the human asked curiously.

"I was wondering where I could find a holocron." Mor asked.

"What are you, some kind of Jedi?" the human wondered.

"I don't think it matters, does it?" Mor replied sternly.

"No I guess it doesn't." the human admitted.

"Tanz the Hutt claims to own a holocron, but good luck getting anywhere near him." the Gran said.

"Something tells me you can make that happen." Mor said, "Perhaps if the price is right, he will be willing to part ways with it."

"You know, he just might." the Gran said as he looked back at his human counterpart with a grin.

"Maybe he'll trade for that blade you got on your belt." the keen-eyed human said.

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Mor said with a grin of his own.

Namlel wasn't sure that the intoxicated Gran was in any condition to be flying a ship, but it was his ticket to this Tanz character, so he decided to suck it up and go with him anyway. It didn't take long for them to reach the compound, one of those old B'omarr Monk temples that had been converted into a palace. The whole time, the human kept to himself in the back of the ship, occupied by speaking discretely into his comlink. Thinking he was out of earshot, but unaware he was being listened to anyway, he was speaking with one of his employers about ambushing the Kaleesh once they entered the compound. Mor didn't expect anything less, and he was looking forward to a fight, but only if it led him to the holocron.

"You want him alive?" the human whispered into the comlink.

"If he's got one of those sabers, he's probably some kind of Jedi. He might be able to open this damn thing." the person on the other side of the comlink replied.

"Alright boss." the human quietly said as he disconnected the device and headed over to Mor.

"Everything okay?" Mor asked.

"Yeah, just trying to convince the boss to part ways with the holocron. We'd hate to bring you all this way for nothing." the human replied quickly.

"Yeah, that would be a shame wouldn't it?" Mor said.

Docking in the compound's hangar and heading through the many chambers, past several heavily armed henchmen all glaring at him, Mor knew this fight was going to be fun. He assumed they were trying to lure him further into their base to make his escape more difficult, unaware that it only sealed their own fates.

Reaching the grand audience chamber, Mor was greeted with the hideous sight of Tanz the Hutt, a rather large specimen flanked by guards on each side. Although he couldn't directly see the rest, he could sense there were more hiding in the corners, probably waiting for an ambush. He was okay with that, fighting the enemy on their terms made the victory much sweeter.

"My men say you have an interest in one of my possessions... a holocron..." Tanz said in a booming voice.

"Indeed, I am willing to pay quite handsomely for it." Mor replied with a polite bow.

"Pay you will, with your life." Tanz said as he signaled for his guards to move.

Mor could sense their intentions, capture, not kill. He decided not to begin his attack, he was curious to see what they would do first. An Ishi-Tib guard snatched the lightsaber from Mor's belt as the rest held their guns towards their new prisoner. Amusingly, this guard seemed to think that taking the blade meant he was some kind of higher tier guard, unaware he was now going to be Mor's prime target.

"None of us have been able to access this device..." Tanz admitted, "we believe that only those skilled with the force can open it. You will do this for us, and maybe we'll let you live..."

"With pleasure..." Mor said with a grin, "let's see it."

One of the Hutt's aides entered the room, a pathetic and cowardly looking Neimoidian, carrying the pyramid shaped holocron. It was gorgeous, black and red with intricate designs on it. He still had no idea who the gatekeeper of this device was, and it made the prospect of opening it that much more enticing. He'd play their little game, just long enough to distract them before he would take their lives.

"I get to cap him once we're done." the human guard spoke up.

"As long as I get that nice saber he had with him." the Ishi-Tib guard said with a laugh.

"Quiet, both of you." Tanz ordered, "Now, open the device."

Mor quieted his mind and observed the holocron, every aspect of it. He could see the method laying itself out in front of him, a complex puzzle built for his kind, the Sith. It was ancient, it hadn't been opened for thousands of years, that much was apparent. Taking his time as to avoid damaging the device, he used his mind to carefully slide the parts around.

"Hurry up." a Sullustan guard said.

"Shut up." Mor replied, some of the guards chuckling at this.

Before long, the holocron opened, a blue wave of light filled the room. The tall, imposing form of a Sith Lord appeared before them. With the black robe that covered him from head to toe, no visible skin showing, and a distinct white mask with red markings on it, it was all Mor needed to recognize the gatekeeper of this holocron.

"Who the hell is that?" a Rodian asked.

"Darth Nihilus, the lord of hunger." Mor replied as he bowed to the Sith Lord.

As the guards all looked at one another, Mor focused on his lightsaber, clung to the belt of the Ishi-Tib henchmen, but before he could use the distraction to his advantage, he felt himself unable to move, his gaze being fixated on the Dark Lord before him. Against his own will, without breaking eye contact with the cold, soulless gaze of Nihilus, Mor found his hand raising on its own, palm open. He tried to resist with all of his might, but it wasn't enough.

"What should we ask it first?" the drunken Gran asked.

Nihilus shifted his head towards the Gran, then to the Hutt, then back to Mor. With his hand still stretched out, Mor finally understood what was about to happen. Using Mor as his connection to the physical world, Nihilus channeled his powers, bright white beams shooting from Mor's hand and striking the bodies of everyone else in the room. The Hutt and his henchmen screamed and writhed as their bodies began to rot, right in front of their eyes. Some tried to flee, but were unable to as their legs crumpled underneath them, bringing their slushy carcasses with them. Their screams were brief, as their vocal chords and faces became too decrepit and rotten to carry any sound. Within a matter of seconds, all of them were dead, their living essence dragged into Mor's hand and then into the holocron.

"How... you're dead! How the hell is that possible?" Mor asked.

 _«Let me show you... this was merely your first lesson as my student...»_ the Sith Lord said in his ancient Sith language.

If a black hole could speak, it was hard to imagine it would sound like anything other than Darth Nihilus. There was no life in his voice, his tone was hollow and terrifying. Intrigued, Mor nodded in agreement, becoming Nihilus' new apprentice.

 _«Prove your worth...»_ Nihilus said in his dead language.

His instructions couldn't have been clearer. Pulling his lightsaber from the now cold clutches of the Ishi-Tib's husk, Mor made his way out of the inner chambers of the palace, seeking out the remainder of the guards. The first ones to respond to the screams of their master were two Zabraks, who were clearly unprepared for the sight of Mor coming towards them, lightsaber in hand.

It was quite easy for the Kaleesh to make short work of the two, slicing them both in half across their waists. A Skrilling and an Aqualish at the end of the hallway had more time to prepare their weapons and opened fire on Mor, who anticipated their moves far in advance, deflecting their gunfire back at them, killing them.

Without breaking pace, Namlel Mor continued down the hall, turning down an adjacent corridor. He found a Dug waiting for him, but the sight of the Dark Adept made the guard drop his gun in terror and flee in the other direction. The thousands of volts of Sith lightning at Mor's disposal had little trouble catching up to the Dug, sending the alien crashing to the ground, screaming in terror and agony as he was slowly cooked alive by the electric shocks.

Three more guards of undetermined origin began to approach from behind. Using one hand to shock the Dug to death, he used his other hand to deflect the blaster bolts headed his way. With the Dug now dead, Mor focused his attention completely on the three guards. Slowly making his way towards them like some sort of demented serial killer, he was able to deflect every shot they threw his way. Once in striking distance, he decapitated the one to his right, cleaved another in half, then impaled the middle guard, who he could now see was another human. The dying human had a look of terror in his eyes as he stared at his killer, who glared back without remorse as he pushed the lightsaber deeper into his opponent.

Pulling the blade from the now dead human, Mor could sense that he'd butchered everyone in the building. Satisfied with the carnage, he returned to the throne room, with the projection of Darth Nihilus standing perfectly still, looking right at him. Mor had no fear in the Dark Lord's presence, and again bowed in respect to his new master.

 _«Very good...»_ Nihilus said, _«This holocron is useless in the hands of these filthy gangsters, but in your hands, it is a priceless asset...»_

"Indeed, my lord..." Mor said in Basic, relieved he didn't have to attempt to add the Sith language to the things that had been butchered today.

 _«I grow tired of this planet, its inhabitants are hardly worthy of being consumed...»_ Nihilus' empty voice said.

"Then we shall leave at once... just one thing..." Mor began, "My lord, if I may... the legends all had very conflicting tales of what lay behind that mask of yours. If we are to continue this, I wish to see for myself."

Realizing that Namlel Mor was probably the only chance he would get to have a true apprentice and get off this rock, Nihilus relented. The image of the gatekeeper slowly peeled off the mask, revealing... nothing. Although it was infinitely black, Mor could still tell what he was looking at. The absence of life, the space between space, as everything around it was slowly dragged into it, to never be seen again. There was nothing evil about it, nor was there any good. It was the embodiment of death, the ultimate paradox, death itself moving right before Mor's eyes, cursed to exist in a horrible, painful existence merely to consume the living. Still clearly defined in the shape of a man, yet lacking everything that made a human a human. This was where all life would end up.

Never had Lord Sidious' teachings seemed so futile as when he stared into the abyss of Nihilus' face. Power was not the end goal of this Sith, it was the desire, no, the **need** to consume. Sooner or later, even Palpatine had to succumb to the weak design of his mortal coil, but this Nihilus would carry on, carrying the burden of death incarnate, expanding his influence throughout the galaxy to those strong enough to feel it.

 _«What do you see?»_ the Sith Lord asked.

"I see death itself. It looks me in the eyes, no, beyond even my eyes. I see into the blackest void, I see the need to consume, to have the void become ever expanding. I will be its hand." Mor described as best he could.

 _«Excellent... we must be on our way.»_ Nihilus said.

"My current master is a powerful Sith Lord, he wanted me to seek out this holocron and return it to him..." Mor admitted, "he will stop at nothing to see that it reaches him."

 _«Let him have it...»_ Nihilus said.

"My lord?" Mor said with surprise.

 _«Give this to him, do not reveal your betrayal to him... we will continue our lessons without his knowledge... one powerful with the force, such as yourself, will see that it is done...»_

"Of course, my master." Mor said as he stood up and closed the holocron.

He hadn't planned on betraying Palpatine today, but it was the way of the Sith and he knew it. Making his way past the corpses of the men he massacred, Mor left the palace behind and got back into the Sith Infiltrator, which luckily hadn't been looted while he was away. Speeding away from the palace and off the surface of Teth, he began to input the coordinates for Byss into the navicomputer, but was interrupted by an incoming transmission from somewhere on Teth. Curious to see what someone could possibly want with him, he allowed it to come through.

The holoprojection flashed on the dashboard, revealing a male human, who, if Mor's memory on human appearances was correct, looked to be in his mid to late twenties, and had a military style shaved head and a stubble. Dressed in a black trench coat that seemed to give off a vibe of power, the man's green eyes carefully and thoroughly examined Mor, almost as if he was able to piece together the Kaleesh's story just by looking at him.

"Hello. My name's Egon Tucker," the man said, "and I'm a big fan of your work. I gotta say, I wasn't expecting to see a Kaleesh, don't see very many of your kind around these days."

"How the hell did you reach me? Did you track my ship?" Mor asked.

"It was the only one that my men saw leaving the scene of the massacre. Wasn't incredibly difficult." Egon stated.

"So you're affiliated with the Hutts then?" Mor guessed.

"Hell no!" Egon said, sounding genuinely offended, "I can't stand their kind, my men were probing their operation for weakness when you had your little rampage and did the dirty work for us. For that, I guess I should thank you. Consider this a peace offering, and more than that, a request for a potential business arrangement."

"You want to work together?" Mor asked.

"Well, what can I say? My men showed me what was left of those dirtbags you took out. Fascinating stuff, you really made them hurt, made it ugly... I like that a lot. I don't know how you did it, and I don't even want to know. You seem cautious, I can respect that. I'm not going to pry you for information, and in return I won't be divulging too much either. All I can say is that my connections are vast, my cohorts and I have the power and wealth to fund a truly successful black market empire, and you can be a part of that."

"Well," Mor began, "you've given me a lot to consider. I will relay you my reply when I have one."

"Of course." Egon said, "Amateur hour is over, my friend. Time to go pro. Just one thing. What can I call you?"

"Reejsk. That will suffice until give you a final answer." Mor answered.

"I'll try to remember that. Hope to hear from you soon." Egon said as he disconnected the transmission.

Reejsk was a Kaleesh word that meant 'killer'. He had no intention of revealing his true name to this scoundrel. Activating his ship's cloaking device, it was now blind not only to the naked eye, but to scanners as well. Mor plotted an alternate course back to Byss, just to make double sure that a not-so-direct route back home would ensure he wouldn't be tracked by this Egon Tucker.

Returning to Byss hardly felt like homecoming. It was the closest thing to a home that he had, but with very little memory of his life before being an Adept, and with nothing here except the nice views, it was all so alien to him. He docked the Infiltrator at the Citadel and dutifully reported to the Emperor's chambers. Bowing before his master, he presented the holocron.

"Excellent work, my pupil..." Palpatine said as he levitated the device toward him.

"It was in the possession of the Hutts, I murdered everyone in the vicinity..." Mor said, "It was no trouble at all. There is one more thing, my master. I was contacted by a man named Egon Tucker. He is an enemy of the Hutts, and admired the work I did against their cartel. He wants to hire me. He knows who I am. Shall I terminate him as well?"

"On the contrary, I think this man could be a valuable asset..." Palpatine said as he examined the holocron, "While this man does know of your existence, it is your role as an Adept that he does not know of, that can never be known to anyone. Take the job from this Egon Tucker, he will be the cover you need to continue your work as my Adept."

"It will be done, my lord." Mor said as he turned and walked out.

Three masters now, how unexpected. Emperor Palpatine, Darth Nihilus, and Egon Tucker. As he made his way back to his private quarters, Namlel Mor found himself doubting his own destiny, unsure which path was the right one, who was his true master, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being manipulated by everyone who knew him.


End file.
